11 hours ago
The air in the laboratory grew thick with tension as Pathan's finger continued its exploration of her lips. His breathing had become labored, and something predatory flickered in his eyes.
"Madam," he said, his voice rough with desire, "can I kiss those sexy lips?"
The words hit Devika like a physical blow. Her student—her own student—was asking to kiss her. The inappropriateness of it crashed over her in waves.
"Pathan!" she gasped, finally finding her voice. "You're my student! How can you even ask such a thing?"
But before she could step away, before she could establish the distance that propriety demanded, Pathan moved. Quick as a striking snake, he pressed forward and planted a tight peck on her lips.
The contact lasted only a second, but in that brief moment, he felt the incredible softness of her mouth against his. Her lips were even more perfect than he had imagined—plush and warm and everything he had fantasized about during those long hours watching her in class.
Shock paralyzed Devika for a heartbeat. Then her hand moved on its own, delivering a light slap across his cheek.
"I'm your teacher!" she cried, her voice shaking with outrage and something else she couldn't name.
"Sorry, madam. Sorry," Pathan said, touching his cheek where her palm had connected. "I couldn't control myself. Your lips... they're just too beautiful."
Devika stood frozen, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She should have moved away. She should have demanded he unlock the door immediately. She should have reported this to the authorities.
Instead, she remained exactly where she was.
"Madam," Pathan continued, emboldened by her lack of movement, "I can show you what you've been missing from your husband."
He took a step forward. Devika instinctively moved backward, but the laboratory bench caught her retreat. The hard edge pressed against her lower back, trapping her between the cold surface and Pathan's advancing form.
His hands rose to her shoulders, fingers spreading across the delicate fabric of her blouse.
"Pathan, take your hands off me," she whispered, but the command lacked conviction.
"Madam," he said, his voice dropping to a husky murmur, "I know your lips need a man to smooch them properly. They're crying out for real attention."
"No," Devika protested weakly. "Don't do anything. This is wrong."
But Pathan was beyond listening to reason. He closed the remaining gap between them, his body heat radiating against her trapped form. Devika's breathing became erratic, her pulse hammering against her throat.
"Madam," he breathed, his face inches from hers, "your lips are so dry without a man's saliva. Let me wet them for you."
Devika opened her mouth to protest, to establish boundaries one final time, but Pathan seized the moment. He locked his lips against hers, claiming her mouth with desperate hunger.
Devika's hands flew up to push against his chest, but he was stronger than she had anticipated. His body pressed her firmly against the bench, his kiss demanding and insistent.
The taste of him flooded her senses—the bitter tang of tobacco, the sharp bite of paan, the underlying masculine heat that was uniquely his. It was nothing like Rajeevan's perfunctory pecks, nothing like the sanitized romance of movies. This was raw and earthy and overwhelming.
Slowly, against every principle she held dear, Devika's resistance began to crumble. Her eyes fluttered closed. Her hands, which had been pushing against him, gradually stilled.
When Pathan finally pulled back, both of them were breathing hard. Devika's lips glistened with his saliva, swollen and wet from his attention.
She could taste him on her tongue—the unpleasant residue of his habits mixing with something else, something that made her stomach flutter in ways she didn't want to acknowledge.
"Your breath," she whispered, wrinkling her nose at the lingering flavors of tobacco and paan. "It's so..."
But Pathan was lost in his own discovery. "Madam," he groaned, touching his own lips as if to preserve the sensation, "your saliva tastes like honey. So sweet, so perfect."
Devika stared at him, her mind reeling from what had just occurred. Something had awakened inside her—something dangerous and forbidden that she had kept buried for far too long. The feeling frightened and thrilled her in equal measure.
"Madam," he said, his voice rough with desire, "can I kiss those sexy lips?"
The words hit Devika like a physical blow. Her student—her own student—was asking to kiss her. The inappropriateness of it crashed over her in waves.
"Pathan!" she gasped, finally finding her voice. "You're my student! How can you even ask such a thing?"
But before she could step away, before she could establish the distance that propriety demanded, Pathan moved. Quick as a striking snake, he pressed forward and planted a tight peck on her lips.
The contact lasted only a second, but in that brief moment, he felt the incredible softness of her mouth against his. Her lips were even more perfect than he had imagined—plush and warm and everything he had fantasized about during those long hours watching her in class.
Shock paralyzed Devika for a heartbeat. Then her hand moved on its own, delivering a light slap across his cheek.
"I'm your teacher!" she cried, her voice shaking with outrage and something else she couldn't name.
"Sorry, madam. Sorry," Pathan said, touching his cheek where her palm had connected. "I couldn't control myself. Your lips... they're just too beautiful."
Devika stood frozen, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She should have moved away. She should have demanded he unlock the door immediately. She should have reported this to the authorities.
Instead, she remained exactly where she was.
"Madam," Pathan continued, emboldened by her lack of movement, "I can show you what you've been missing from your husband."
He took a step forward. Devika instinctively moved backward, but the laboratory bench caught her retreat. The hard edge pressed against her lower back, trapping her between the cold surface and Pathan's advancing form.
His hands rose to her shoulders, fingers spreading across the delicate fabric of her blouse.
"Pathan, take your hands off me," she whispered, but the command lacked conviction.
"Madam," he said, his voice dropping to a husky murmur, "I know your lips need a man to smooch them properly. They're crying out for real attention."
"No," Devika protested weakly. "Don't do anything. This is wrong."
But Pathan was beyond listening to reason. He closed the remaining gap between them, his body heat radiating against her trapped form. Devika's breathing became erratic, her pulse hammering against her throat.
"Madam," he breathed, his face inches from hers, "your lips are so dry without a man's saliva. Let me wet them for you."
Devika opened her mouth to protest, to establish boundaries one final time, but Pathan seized the moment. He locked his lips against hers, claiming her mouth with desperate hunger.
Devika's hands flew up to push against his chest, but he was stronger than she had anticipated. His body pressed her firmly against the bench, his kiss demanding and insistent.
The taste of him flooded her senses—the bitter tang of tobacco, the sharp bite of paan, the underlying masculine heat that was uniquely his. It was nothing like Rajeevan's perfunctory pecks, nothing like the sanitized romance of movies. This was raw and earthy and overwhelming.
Slowly, against every principle she held dear, Devika's resistance began to crumble. Her eyes fluttered closed. Her hands, which had been pushing against him, gradually stilled.
When Pathan finally pulled back, both of them were breathing hard. Devika's lips glistened with his saliva, swollen and wet from his attention.
She could taste him on her tongue—the unpleasant residue of his habits mixing with something else, something that made her stomach flutter in ways she didn't want to acknowledge.
"Your breath," she whispered, wrinkling her nose at the lingering flavors of tobacco and paan. "It's so..."
But Pathan was lost in his own discovery. "Madam," he groaned, touching his own lips as if to preserve the sensation, "your saliva tastes like honey. So sweet, so perfect."
Devika stared at him, her mind reeling from what had just occurred. Something had awakened inside her—something dangerous and forbidden that she had kept buried for far too long. The feeling frightened and thrilled her in equal measure.
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